Page 2 of A Savage Bargain

The itsy-bitsy spider song popped into my head and, with a maniacal laugh, I began humming. And humming. And humming some more.

On what was probably my thousandth iteration of the song, a new sound caused me to leap to my feet.

Someone was opening the door! My trepidation rose with the slow movement of the door. A crack of light became a floodlight, blinding me. I threw a hand up over my face, fully aware of my complete vulnerability in that moment. The person who opened the door remained silent. My hand dropped to my side. I blinked a few times while my vision adjusted.

“What the actual fuck?” I blurted out at the sight before me. “What are you?”

Standing before me was… well, I wasn’t sure. He was tall and slender, with broad shoulders. Although he wore a nicely tailored pinstripe suit, and appeared otherwise like an attractive, respectable human, his skin shined like an iridescent oil slick.On either side of his neck were slashes, like gills. Bright green eyes beneath close-cropped dark brown hair widened at me.

He opened his mouth, and a series of dolphin-like whistles and clacks sounded.

What was he, a merman? “I don’t understand you,” I said, trying unsuccessfully to tamp down the anxiety snaking its way through my entire body.

The merman-being before me coughed and opened his mouth again. “You are not my Runner. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Thank god, you speak English!” I exclaimed. Adrenaline still poured through my system from running from Mark and hiding in the unknown trailer. The relief that the unusual stranger before me spoke English was short-lived. I just wanted out of the container. “Thank you so much—” I stepped forward.

His hand shot out and prevented me from moving forward.

I glanced down in confusion, wrapping his meaty paw in my two tiny hands. The distinction between my clearly-human hands and his human-shaped but covered in blue-green skin distracted me. I tried for a level tone when I spoke. “Excuse me. Please let me out.”

“You are a stowaway.” His gravelly voice stated this as fact.

“Technically,” I agreed. “It wasn’t on purpose. See, there was this?—”

“You are not supposed to be here,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

A spark of anger popped. “Okay, sure. But if you’ll let me out, I can be on my way.”

“You will need to be disposed of.”

My jaw dropped open at the nonchalant way he said he was going to kill me. “Hey, now. That’s not necessary. I can just leave.” Pushing against his hand, cool yet somehow warm against my chest, did nothing.

“Do you want to ask the captain for special dispensation?”

“Captain? Dispensation? I’m sorry, what?” I tried to follow his question. “Are we on a boat?”

The stranger tilted his head. “Ship.”

“Boat, ship, same difference.”

Pursed lips greeted my response. “Spaceship.”

That stopped me cold. “Spaceship?”

“The captain will likely dispose of you. Stowing away is not allowed.”

I held up my hands in supplication. It occurred to me that the stranger might actually be deranged. A spaceship? Please. But, I wanted out of the container and away from wherever we were, so I needed to humor him. “Look. I didn’t mean to. There’s no reason to, uh, dispose of me. Can you just drop me back off where you found me?” The wheedling tone in my voice irritated me.

“There is another option.”

I seized at the words. “What? Anything is better than being disposed of.”

“You are lucky the Collector is on board, too. Human females are popular with the Collector.”

“The Collector?” I gaped at the stranger. “Like sex trafficking? Oh, come on.”

“This option is good,” he continued, “because I also get a finder’s fee. What is your name?”

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